Aboard the Valiant
by Elly Liselle
Summary: The Doctor knew why he was there- why the Master could never kill him, but instead kept him, a pet. He knew what sat behind the Master's smile and laughing laugh- even if the Master didn't.


The Master had always possessed an incredibly large ego, even- or especially- around the Doctor. Their meeting on the _Valiant_, while rather unexpected on the Master's part, was no different. If anything, the Master was higher on his horse than ever before.

During the day, the Master gloated, strutted about the _Valiant_ before the Doctor. That was the show he displayed for Lucy Saxon and for the Joneses. He grinned and smirked and flashed puppy-dog pouts. He flounced around the room and danced and sang in a clear voice.

Smiling all the while.

At night the room grew dark, the lights went out, the noise ceased, silence reigned. The Doctor curled in his tent, not letting himself wince in pain. He scrabelled together the meager blankets the Master had tossed in during the course of the three months they had been on board the _Valiant. _He tucked the best of the worst around his frail frame, the others piled beneath his weak head.

Tired eyes closed, blocking out everything around him, the blank nothingness of the room. He settled against the unforgiving canvas floor of his tent and tried to sleep.

He never dreamed.

But tonight he awoke to footsteps in the room. He raised his head slowly, aching as he sat. He had barely made it to a seated position when the tent flap was pulled to the side and the Master crawled in. The Doctor went to speak, lips parting questioningly, forehead creased, but a hand covered his mouth.

Brown eyes widened as the Master drew out his laser screwdriver, as his finger found the small button nestled along the side. The Master kept the Doctor's mouth covered as the Doctor regained his youth, watching as the Doctor shook and trembled. The Doctor bit back pained screams- he could hear enough during the day, heard enough when the Master had his attention on Jack in the bowels of the ship.

One could hear almost anything, if it were loud enough.

The Doctor could not sit up properly, chin lowered, breath heaving in gulps. Brown eyes closed, hiding dampness borne of pain. He leaned his head on the Master's shoulder, lips opened wide, drawing in as much air as he could. He barely moved as hands discarded the sonic screwdriver, moved to his back, holding him still.

Neither said anything, the only sound the dry noise of breathing.

Neither went to say anything, despite millions of questions running through the Doctor's mind, despite thousands of words the Master could say.

They sat.

When it looked the Doctor was drifting into unconsciousness, the Master shook him roughly. The Doctor winced as he sat straight, looking at the Master in the darkness. He shook slightly, leaning forward then back. He tried to stop, tried to sit perfectly still.

Still he said nothing.

Many questions rested just on the tip of his tongue, but he could not ask any of them. Instead he looked over the shadows of the Master, trying to see in the black tent. He barely saw as the Master reached for him once more; The Doctor automatically moved forward, meeting the Master halfway.

The Master held him. To the Doctor it felt like the mockery of an embrace, as if the Master did not want it to him he was holding, but was doing it because he was the only one he could possibly hold.

Brown hair flattened against the Master's shirt as the Doctor rested his head on the elder's shirt. He knew why the Master was here. Even if the Master could not explain why he crawled in to the small tent, the Doctor knew.

They were the last.

And that was the sort of connection that could never be broken.

The Doctor wrapped shaky arms around the Master, burying his face into the soft cotton of his shirt. The Master held on tightly, the two completely silent.

He spent the day laughing and smirking, but even the Master knew the Doctor was the only bit of Gallifrey he had left. He tried to hide any care he had for the other Time Lord- the only other Time Lord left. He could not turn his back entirely on the man- just as he could not fully kill him. Age him, keep him in a cage- but not kill him.

That he could never do.


End file.
